The Horror of Our Love
by Amon2
Summary: Nero comes home one day to find Kyrie raped and dead. Warnings: Dark, non-con, angst, gore... Dante/Nero/Vergil


Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry.

Summary: Nero comes home one day to find Kyrie raped and dead.

Dante/Nero/Vergil

Warnings: Yaoi, rape, threesome, character death, gore, OOC, dark, angst…

Author: Hold on a sec before you start reading…

*Author disappears then returns after a few minutes wearing a Kevlar vest and a helmet*

Author: Ok, you can go ahead now. *Pulls down visor*

**Let me just say that this story is by no means a serious attempt at a one-shot. It's merely the dark musings of a sick, deranged mind (mine). It's simply one option of a long list of **_**Ifs **_**and scenarios**_**.**_** Ex: What if Nero was such and such…What if Vergil was such and such…etc. It's something I put to the test to see what would come up.**

Now, with that said, you may continue.

The Horror of Our Love

Nero was dead-tired.

No, not just dead-tired, he was pretty much ambling along the empty dawn streets of Fortuna at a zombie's pace.

The night had been a busy one. It seemed that breeding season was around the corner because the number of demons that popped out tonight was simply not possible to comprehend. If Red Queen had not been forged from a rare type of enchanted metal and previously blessed by Sanctus, Nero would have been sure its blade would have gone dull after meeting the hides of so many of the unfortunate creatures this night.

But finally it was done and he could go home, take a shower, and have breakfast with Kyrie before hitting the sheets for a well deserved rest.

The road seemed to stretch forever to his exhausted body, but the young demon slayer was soon greeted with the sight of his house at the end of the corner.

He smiled and sped up his pace a bit, anxious to clean off the hard night's filth and grime. He walked up to the front door and pulled out his keys to let himself inside.

"Kyrie, I'm home," he called as he closed the door behind him.

"Kyrie," he called again as he set his weapons aside and began peeling himself out of his sweat soaked clothes.

"Kyrie." He tried once more but received no reply.

The young Order member frowned.

This was strange. Usually, Kyrie was a worrywart. Whenever Nero had night patrol she would insist on staying up and waiting for him to come home in case he came in a damaged state and needed medical attention. Nero had tried time and again to convince her not to wait up and to simply go to bed, that he would be fine. But she would never hear of it, and every time Nero would come back from patrol he would find her in the living room reading as she waited for him. It was a habit that although annoyed him, also made him feel happy and appreciated.

But now she wasn't here to greet him. He walked into the living room to find it empty. Concern gnawed at his insides.

He shook his head at his silliness and pushed the worry away. Now he was the one being the worrywart. He was the one being ridiculous for a change. Maybe she had just decided to stop being a mother hen and go to bed. But somehow he wasn't convinced, and what truly confirmed his suspicions was the smell that suddenly invaded his senses. He had failed to register it at first on account of his drained state, but now it hit him dead on. It was metallic and sickly sweet, and an odor that Nero was quite familiar with: blood.

And the smell was coming from upstairs.

Fear hit him like a punch in the guts.

"Kyrie!"

Nero turned around, ran towards the foyer, grabbed Blue Rose, and quickly made his way upstairs. His heart hammered in his chest, and the cold sweat of fear accumulating to that from his prior exertions.

The doors of all the rooms on the second level were open except for the one leading into their bedroom… and the origin of the smell.

"Kyrie, are you alright? Please, answer me." Nero tried in vein, his voice surprisingly steady, not revealing the sheer terror twisting in his stomach. "Kyrie," once more in hopes that he would receive an answer and that the worst was not waiting for him just on the other side of that door.

But when no answer came he knew he would have to see…but simultaneously…he did not want to see.

The young hybrid wrapped his Devil Bringer around the door handle, cocked Blue Rose in his human hand, and slowly began to turn the knob.

The sight that would greet the white haired young man would haunt him for the rest of his life.

2 Months Later

Nero opened the door to his house and let himself inside. The place was in darkness, neglected and un-kept. The young man didn't bother turning on the lights, he merely dropped his weapons to the floor and mindlessly walked into the living room to fall gracelessly onto the couch. His eyes were vacant and far away, his face appearing more worn and tired than a person his age should be, and his posture was that of one defeated.

Sitting in the dark silence of the once happy home, he closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to travel back to a more pleasant time; to a time when he shared his domicile with a redheaded songstress. They felt so far away now, those days. The days when he expected his fiancée to greet him at the door with her gentle smile and caring eyes. The days when they would lie down together, simply holding one another in their arms after making love.

The days when the young man hadn't walked in on his lover raped, eviscerated, and her body left on the bed for him to find.

His heart lurched in his chest and his lips drew into a thin line. Tears threatened to spill. Two months had passed and the sorrow still felt so fresh.

The image, oh god, the image refused to leave him. Her naked body on top of the mattress, her limbs twisted in the covers, her torso cut open with her entrails hanging out, blood covering every surface, and her face forever contorted and frozen into a rigor mortis of terror.

Nero's lips quivered as he fought the tears back.

The grief was welcome, the anger even more so. It would help fuel his rage and drive to continue to hunt down her killer and destroy him.

It has been a couple of months since her gruesome demise and the younger man was still no where near close at finding Kyrie's killer or identifying him. Kyrie had always been a gentle soul, never been mean or unpleasant to anyone, so it was completely incomprehensible to Nero as to who would have been capable of hurting the gentle maiden and killing her in such a grisly manner.

Whoever it was that had ended his lover's life: He. Will. Pay!

How was he so sure that the other was male?

The autopsy reports that the local mortician filed had found evidence of forced penetration; the bastard had also raped her!

The young hunter's features contorted in anger.

It hadn't been enough to simply kill her, but the low life had also violated her before killing her and mauling her remains!

Fury unlike anything Nero had ever experienced before consumed him. The bastard would pay! He vowed so. He would not rest until he tracked the other down and shoved Red Queen's blazing edge up the murderer's insides...slowly.

But until then, Nero had to figure out what to do with himself; he was simply incapable of staying here. This place was too silent, too full of memories of his beloved. Staying here simply reminded him that should he even avenge her he would not get her back. That he had failed to protect her. That she was forever lost to him.

Depression threatened to overwhelm him again. He fought it and allowed fantasies of a macabre vengeance to sooth his mind. When he was acceptably livid again he turned his thoughts back as to where to go and what to do.

Not only was his home now unpleasant to him, but also his entire association with Fortuna and its denizens.

He thought of calling up Dante and asking him if he could stay with him for a while. After the whole Savior incident he and the older man had stayed in contact over the coming months, and on numerous occasions the other had offered him a place to stay should he tire of Fortuna, and to work alongside him and his brother Vergil at their shop; Devil May Cry.

Nero remembered how astonished he was when he had met the older man's twin. The two looked so similar, but so different. Their personalities sharp contrasts of each others'. He also remembered how the older man told him how ecstatic he had been at having his brother home again. And Vergil might have come off as snobbish and cold at first when Nero met him. But after spending further time with him, Nero saw the caring side the blue clad twin harbored for his brother, and the other had even shown to have found Nero to be tolerable company. Something that Dante had later told him to feel honored with and to enjoy it because the blue double was not known for being a pleasant character to new acquaintances…or any acquaintances for that matter.

The young hybrid debated whether or not to call the older devil hunter up on his offer. Before, he refused on account of wanting to stay with Kyrie…but now…Nero sighed. Now there was no reason for him to stay. In fact the very idea of remaining filled him with a sense of dread. His birthplace had turned from a home into a nightmare. And after word got out of Kyrie's passing the older man had stopped by to give his condolences and check on him as well as offer him a place to stay at Devil May Cry if the isolation got to be too much on him (The other had known that the only reason the citizens of Fortuna treated Nero somewhat decently was on account of his relationship with Kyrie, but with her gone they would go back to treating him like an outcast).

But would the older hybrid really take him with all the baggage that Nero was carrying? The other might not be up to the idea of housing a depressed, angry youth in mourning.

He was still debating the matter when he heard knocking on his front door. It startled him as he had become quite accustomed to silence and solitude that had followed Kyrie's absence.

Curious as to who might be paying him a visit this late at night, Nero rose from the couch and went to see who it could be.

His visitor was both a welcome and a surprise.

Standing under the front porch's light, clad in his trade mark red was none other than the man Nero had just been thinking about phoning.

Dante still looked the same as always; snow white hair, stubble covered chin, and dressed in leather.

"Hey, kid," Dante greeted, "Long time no see."

"Dante, what are you doing here? It's 4 in the morning." He asked as he stepped aside to allow the older man in.

"Well, I was passing through on my way back from a job and I thought I'd come by and see how you were holding up," the older man said, his blue eyes studying Nero's tired, haggard face.

"I'm fine," the Order member responded although he could see that Dante wasn't convinced from the tight look he was giving him.

"You don't look fine," the older man countered. "Have you thought about my offer?"

Nero sighed and moved into the living room to take his former seat. Dante followed him to lean against the door frame and study him.

The encompassing darkness of the gloomy home could not hide the boy's visage from Dante's demonically enhanced vision. The youth had bags under his eyes, his figure was thinner than ever, and his shoulders were drooping under some invisible weight. He was a sorry sight. Kyrie's death had truly left him a shallow copy of his former vitality.

"I have, but I can't leave just yet," Nero answered as he ran his hand through his snowy locks. "I still haven't found anything to help me discover the identity of Kyrie's attacker."

"That's reason enough to leave, don't you think?" Dante said. "Listen, obviously you still haven't made any breakthroughs here, so why don't you come to Devil May Cry. Maybe a change in location will bring a change of perspective…and Devil May Cry runs along a lot of routes and we take a lot of missions, maybe we might come along something to help you find out who the killer is. We've had missing person's missions, and tracking missions before."

Nero was silent for a moment, contemplating.

"What about your partners?" he asked. "Would they mind having me around?"

Dante smiled.

"Nah, they won't mind," he moved away from the frame and further into the room. "Lady and Trish rarely ever come by the shop unless the mission's too big for them, and I've already told Vergil about having you join. In fact he's looking forward to working alongside the guy who pinned me with my own sword to a statue of our father after kicking me in the face."

Surprisingly, Nero broke into a smile of his own.

"Ah, good times," He said in a wistful voice.

The older demon slayer snorted.

"Enjoy the memory, because hell if you think I'm going to give you the opportunity to do it again."

"We'll see about that, old man."

"Yeah, we'll see, kid."

Dante's grin widened. It was good to see the younger man return to his former teasing, punk state as opposed to the sulking one.

"So?"

Nero bit his lower lip, debating the manner. Maybe he should go with Dante. There was nothing left for him here except ghosts and the town people's menace. Who knows? Maybe moving to Capulet city and being occupied is just what he needs to track down the killer and to finally begin the healing process.

He conceded.

"Perfect!" Dante exclaimed jubilantly, his delight at having the younger man over quite obvious and making said youth blush in warmth and appreciation at having his company tolerated - nay - wanted again.

The younger twin planted himself next to Nero and wrapped an arm around the Order member's shoulder. "We'll move you in right away. Trust me Nero, you won't regret this." Dante tightened his grip around the younger man as he drew them surreptitiously closer.

7 Months Later

Nero stirred awake as the first rays of dawn shone through the blinds. The blankets were pooled around his knees and there was a chill in the air, but the bodies on either side of his naked one were warm.

The white haired youth cracked open sleepy eyes to take in Dante's sleeping visage in front of him before turning and craning his head slightly to look over his own shoulder at his other lover whom was spooning him from behind. Vergil's eyes cracked open to see him looking at him. The older man smiled and leaned forward to kiss his lips before drawing him closer and going back to sleep.

Nero sighed contently and laid his head back down on the comfy pillow.

It had been nine months since Kyrie's death, seven since he had left Fortuna with Dante, and three months since Dante and Vergil had seduced and instigated him into a three-way relationship with them (***Author: If I somehow fucked up my math here I'm tossing myself over the balcony***).

Who would have thought that Nero would have finally managed to move on? It had seemed that he would never be able to get over Kyrie's death, especially in the intensity and vileness of how she had died.

And who would have thought that the Sparda twins would actually show to harbor interest in him?

Nero had been surprised at the warm reception he had received from the red twin, but he had been flabbergasted at receiving similar treatment from the frostier twin. He had expected an aloof if somewhat snide disposition towards him from Yamato's wielder, but he had been surprised at the soft character lurking beneath the aristocratic countenance.

Even though both men seemed to be utterly fond of him and cared deeply for him, he still suffered from an acute case of low self esteem. It was a condition he was inflicted with and hid behind a cocky facade on account of the difficult life resulting from the long years of living in Fortuna's closed society.

Both his lovers went out of their way to make him happy and comfortable, but Nero didn't believe he deserved it despite all their arguments otherwise.

He also felt that perusing any relationship or differing from his quest would have been an insult to Kyrie's memory. But the duo had been insistent, reassuring him that the red head would have wanted him to move on with his life and not brood on her, that he would not be betraying her memory.

And so hesitantly, Nero had acquiescence and decided to get to know the twins a little better. The differences he found in intimacy were not so contrasting.

Vergil kept his emotions close to heart but never failed at showing the affection he harbored for him and Dante at regular intervals.

Dante went a bit further in spoiling his lovers and indulging their whims and wishes. Nero, for his part, had tried to stop him, mistaking his fondness for pity, but Dante had corrected his assumptions and confessed that he had always been attached to him ever since their very first meeting.

Nero couldn't believe how lucky he was to have such loving boyfriends to help him through his difficult time. He still hunted and pursued cases that could hold some relevance to his lost One even though he had turned precious little over the past few months. It was still better though than a complete lack of clues from earlier. He had not forfeited his mission. He was still determined to find the perpetrator and bring him to justice (or more accurately; Nero's own macabre version of justice).

Dante's POV

Dante never thought he would have ever been able to pull their lover out of his misery, but the combined efforts from both him and Vergil had the splendid effect of setting Nero on the path to healing. Sure the kid was still upset that he could not manage to find his former lover's killer. And he was frustrated by the lack of success in tracking them down, but he had taught him to not allow it to completely consume his every waking thought, and to move on in life - if not completely, then at least partially.

But seeing now how he had been blessed with waking up next to this beautiful sight of Nero sharing his bed while nestled between him and Vergil, Dante knew that he had made the right choice. That it had been worth his while…

That taking out that bitch Kyrie had been the best decision Dante had ever made.

Sending his mind back, he recalled how it had first started as a small visit to try an innocuous attempt at scaring the little tart off and making her break off whatever she had going with the younger hybrid. But she had been un-intimidated…at first. Words had been tossed, tempers had flared, voices had been raised, and soon the little visit had escalated into messy fight. Well actually it had more of a massacre, the little human hadn't really stood at chance - hadn't had the slightest hope of fighting off an opponent such as Dante.

Dante had wanted her to break; he had wanted her to see that Nero's true place was with him and Vergil, and _only _them.

It had taken a great deal for him to have gotten it up to deign as to force himself upon her, but after he had conjured the image of Nero as his to his mind he had found himself good to go. After the deed had been done and she had laid there naked and crying, he knew that he could not have allowed her to live beyond that night and had had promptly grabbed Rebellion and began hacking away at her.

He hadn't meant to get carried away with the slashing. He hadn't meant to go that far (but then again he hadn't been planning rape and murder on that fateful visit, but it had happened) but once he had begun he just hadn't been able to find it in himself to stop.

Then while he had been standing over her rapidly cooling remains he had thought that he might have felt some inkling of guilt twist in his chest, but it hadn't been directed at his recent kill, it had been meant for the younger lover who was going to walk in onto this scene later on that night. Dante had considered getting rid of the body, cleaning up, and sparing the absent boy the gruesome sight, but then he had reconsidered. Should Nero see this he would have been left crushed, shocked, traumatized, broken…_vulnerable_. In other words: ripe for the picking. He would have been fragile, and in need of being held and comforted.

And Dante had liked the sound of that.

Dante had given the young hybrid time to mourn and had kept his distance to avoid suspicion, until he had finally deemed it time to swoop in and collect the youth between open arms. Then once enough time had passed he had talked Vergil into inviting said youth into their relationship and wooing the kid. Not a difficult task since he had seen that his older brother had already been attracted to the younger man for a while now and that Nero had still been reeling from Kyrie's death and feeling the pervading sense of loneliness left by her absence.

From hence forth it had been a matter of seduction and love. Also Dante's new found hobby of planting false evidence where he could so as to keep the young man from finding him out and continue on a wild goose chase for his former lover's killer.

Oh, poor Nero!

If the white haired youth only knew that the same man he was hunting down was the same man he was sharing his bed with. Vergil had not known about Dante's little side trip that night nine months ago, and Dante planned on keeping it that way. Not that he suspected Vergil of disapproving of his actions. More like the inconvenience of Vergil having something to lord it over Dante's head that he was a hypocrite in saying that he preferred to protect humans, and condemning Vergil's disposition, when he himself had killed a young human girl for the sake of love.

Dante didn't want that kind of hassle.

And he really did love Nero. Why else would he have broken his own cardinal rule against hurting humans if not because he was madly head over heels for the boy?

Besides, the deed had already been done and there was no way to take it back. He had to keep this secret in order to keep his little love.

And such a beautiful thing he had going on: him, his brother, and Nero.

He wouldn't want to lose such a precious prize now would he?

The End

Author: *Author from behind a barricade* Nope, not coming out, you can't make me. I'm staying right here. I have enough yaoi porn, chocolate, and diet coke to last me a fortnight. Bring your torches, pitchforks, and turrets. I'm not budging from my hiding place.


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